In another lifetime
by DeviantFox
Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts is over, but Minerva is far from safe as the delayed effects of the stunners that hit her have begun to take their toll. There is only one way to safe her, but its consequences are complicated.
1. Chapter 1

Those who saw Professor McGonagall take four stunning spells to the chest believed her to have died as the spells made contact with her aging body. They considered such an onslaught to be far more than the human body could withstand. On one account they were correct.

Although the then Head of Gryffindor had appeared to make a remarkable recovery, it transpired that the improvements in her health were short lived. Before long it became clear that, without some form of medical intervention, Minerva McGonagall would succumb to the death she had so narrowly evaded.

It was Poppy Pomfrey and Rolanda Hooch who finally set the wheels in motion, appealing to Dumbledore's portrait for a solution. And it was to Dumbledore, once a course of action had been settled upon, to whom the task of persuading the notoriously stubborn woman fell.

Predictably, Minerva had denied that there was anything at all the matter with her and stoutly refused to have anything to do with a procedure which would require a number of her friends to engage in a lengthy and potentially draining ritual.

It was only when Albus appealed to her as the Head, guardian of the magical youth, that the witch relented and only then in the understanding that to refuse would be to forgo her opportunity, her duty, to steer the school out of the darkness left in the wake of the Battle of Hogwarts.

Obtaining her agreement was, however, relatively speaking, the easy part. The ritual itself was to consist of three parts. The first of these was the brewing of a potion; a powerful relative of the Polyjuice potion with a permanent effect. The details of the potion were such that it had to be brewed all at once within a circle of witnesses. A further complicating factor was that it was imperative that the circle should be made up of ten individuals who harboured absolutely no ill feeling towards Minerva.

So important was this point that it was necessary to subject these individuals to rigorous testing, meaning that the chosen ten had to be willing to consume Veritasium prior to participating in the ritual. The second part of the process consisted of an oath which asserted that the recipient of the ritual would not abuse the effect of the ritual and would seek to do good with the unique circumstance that would be theirs on its completion. Finally, the ten witnesses would channel their magic though the recipient's body as they drank a beaker's measure of the potion.

If all three stages of the process came off with out a glitch, Minerva would be free from the injuries brought about be the the stunning spells; injuries that were slowly draining her of life. This would be, however, only one of two effects. The other consequence of the ritual would be the regression of her bodily cells, so far that she would, in all but mind, become as she had been at her coming of age. This would not only mean that she had the body of an eighteen year old, but also that her life expectancy would increase accordingly. She could expect to live for at least another eighty years and more likely longer on account of the strength of her magic. After all, there were few witches whose sheer magical power could have rallied their body to survive an attack like that which she had survived.

The morning of the ritual dawned just short of a fortnight after the conversation between Minerva and her former Head. The necessary ingredients had been collected and the ten had been chosen and tested. Poppy and Rolanda were to take part in addition to both Mr and Mrs Weasley, Professors Sprout and Flitwick, Madame Rosmerta, Augusta Longbottom, Kingsley Shacklebolt and two of Minerva's oldest friends with whom the group was not familiar. The first of these was a tall old wizard by the name of Garion Maldock with a flamboyant smile. The second was a much shorter witch of a similar age with piercing grey eyes which seemed to negate the lines beginning to spider around them. Her name was Logretta Soie. This was by no means the extent of the people who would have been willing to help Minerva, but it was decided that the participants should be chosen largely according to magical strength and experience. A certain degree of secrecy was also required and it was this criterion that had led some to question whether it might be more prudent to leave Molly out of proceedings, but as Minerva herself pointed out, Molly was far more likely to kick up a fuss if she was not included. So the final ten was confirmed and prepared for the part they were to play.

The morning was bright, but that was to be expected in August. The date had been chosen as it allowed for care and control in the preparations and left some time for Minerva to recover prior to the start of the new school year.

Minerva woke, registering the sunshine outside her window with a smile. Then she remembered exactly what she had to do on that particular day. Feeling a wave of embarrassment roll through her, Minerva groaned and pulled the covers up to her ears, relishing the safety and warmth of her bed. She was not a shy person, indeed her line of work involved talking to hundreds of people, often in large groups. She was not, however, fond of being the reason for a gathering. She had been livid when Albus had organised a surprise party for her seventieth a few years back. Thus the thought of what was to occur horrified her.

At last, deciding that there was little point seeking to avoid the inevitable, Minerva sat up, swung her legs over the edge of her bed and set about getting ready for the day ahead.

* * *

It was much later that evening when the party assembled in the small chamber set off of one side of the great hall. All that is, except Minerva herself, who had opted to take a last minute stroll to settle her mind. As she gazed at the sun as it set over the lake she mused that this, at least, she would enjoy if she lived to see another two hundred years. The ritual was to take place after dark, so it was with a clean conscience that she allowed herself to miss the empty conversation that would bubble about the group as it gathered.

Finally, she sighed and turned towards the castle, trying to ignore the aching in her legs which gave evidence to Albus' insistence that the ritual should go ahead.

As she pushed open the door to the chamber she was greeted by a small crowd of faces, all of which had the good sense to refrain from passing comment on her late arrival.

"Shall we, then?" asked Poppy at last. As the resident expert on health and general mother hen, she had taken the lead in coordinating both ingredients and individuals and had worked hard to prepare Minerva herself for her chief task – brewing the restorative potion which she was to consume.

In silence now, she lead the group to the site that had been prepared for the ritual, a clearing amongst the trees which clumped behind the Herbology greenhouses. In the middle of the clearing was a cauldron as well as a cloth on which a diverse array of ingredients and tools had been placed. Around this, a chalk circle had been drawn, punctuated in places by round cushions intended to help the witnesses remain comfortable throughout the long ritual.

Minerva waited for the ten to take their places before swiftly transfiguring her clothes into the single kaftan-like garment which was required and stepping into the circle, using the piece of chalk which Poppy handed her to close it with a line. Next she began to set about lighting a fire beneath the cauldron and adding ingredients in the order and manner which Poppy had advised.

* * *

It was a full two hours before all of the constituent parts had been added and Minerva was beginning to feel considerable fatigue. Taking advantage of the lull in activity as the potion simmered, she took deep breaths in preparation for the next phase. At least, a pungent steam began to issue from the cauldron, indicating that the potion was complete and ready for consumption.

As she had been instructed, Minerva filled a beaker with the hot liquid and sank to one knee to take her oath,

"Ego, Minerva Charlotte McGonagall, iuro ut malum facere non velim, sed luci veroque pugnabo.'

With that she took up a knife from the blanket and cut her hand, allowing some of her blood to fall into the beaker, bonding the potion to her. At this point she glanced around the circle, alerting the group with her eyes that the time had come for them to play their part.

All ten members of the circle then joined hands and began to focus on Minerva. Then Minerva raised the beaker to her lips and downed the foul-smelling liquid in one. As the potion breached her body, the ten began to chant in a low tongue and as one penetrated Minerva's body with their magic. As one, their energy surged into her and at once she collapsed to meet the hard earth, writhing as if overcome by great pain. Feeling nothing, but blinded by a white light that seemed to emanate from the circle itself, Minerva drifted in and out of consciousness. At last, a roar of sound tore through the air and was immediately followed by profound silence, silence which was soon broken by a light rain which touched upon their faces.

It was this that finally brought Minerva around. Sitting up slowly, she began to climb to her feet and walk to the edge of the circle, bending there to break the line and thus open the circle. Catching sight of her arm as she did this, Minerva's mind was filled by the image of a slender hand, free from veins or wrinkles.

Blacking out, she hit the ground once more.


	2. Chapter 2

Several hours later Minerva came to, finding herself in the empty hospital wing. Empty that is apart from herself and the nurse who took a step towards her, checking her vital signs with a series of intricate wand movements.

'I trust you are not going to attempt to keep me here.' said Minerva, her stern tone marred somewhat by the involuntary flinch she gave on hearing her own voice, high and alien to her now.

'Then you misplace your trust my dear. You are to remain here until tomorrow morning at the very least.' replied Poppy, walking away, before turning to add 'And you have mail.'

Minerva turned her head to see a small stack of post on the bedside table to her right.

The first item was a note scrawled in Rolanda's jerky hand.

_M,_

_Hope you're not feeling too shitty. Send me a note when you want visitors and I'll come by. _

_Ro _

_ps. You look fantastic. _

Minerva allowed herself to smile, before taking and opening a small brown envelope.

_Minerva, _

_I don't like to bother you so soon after everything, but we'd love to see you when you're feeling a bit better. Make sure you let me know when you're free and we'll have dinner at our place. You work yourself too hard and you know how I worry!_

_Look after yourself,_

_Molly W_

Again, Minerva smiled. She could have predicted almost every word. She had not, however, predicted a third message. Taking the green rectangular envelope in her hands, she tore it open.

_Minerva, _

_How are you? Please tell me you're going to be okay now. I've been reading about the regeneration ritual and it sounds terrifying. Don't be angry with Molly. She didn't mean to tell me, but when Arthur let slip that he was worried about you, I pestered her for days to get it out of her. She was terribly upset to have broken your confidence and I felt bad, but I couldn't let it go. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you after everything else. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that I've kept the information to myself. _

_I look forward to seeing you again. I suppose that will be yet another reason I can hardly wait to come back to Hogwarts. _

_Yours, _

_Hermione _

Sighing, she decided to put aside her frustration at her secret having wriggled out so quickly, reasoning that in a matter of days she would have to face hundreds of students, many of whom would be sure to leak the information before a day had passed.

With a twinge of nausea she attempted to dispel a mental image of the reporters she would have clamouring at the front gate, wrestling for a picture or an interview.

Sighing again, Minerva closed her eyes and tried to ignore all of the implications of her new situation, resolving to reply to all three of her letters in the morning.

* * *

Stepping down from the train and onto the Hogsmead platform, Hermione took a deep breath, tasting the satisfaction of her homecoming.

Her obvious pleasure was enough to earn her a playful shove from her companion.

'Honestly 'Mione, you must be the only person in the world who could be this excited about going back to school!' exclaimed the red-headed girl with a smirk.

'Maybe Gin, but I can't help it. It's just a shame the boys didn't care to join us.' replied Hermione, unable to wipe the wide smile from her face.

'I'm not sure they see it that way.' snorted Ginny, thinking of the enthusiasm with which her brother and boyfriend had thrown themselves into auror training. At first it had been a welcome distraction after the trauma of the war, but day by day she had begun to notice little changes in both of them. They had started to laugh again.

Yes, slowly things were beginning to get back to some sort of normality, whatever that was.

* * *

As the girls took their places at the Gryffindor table, Hermione could scarcely believe that she was finally back here. All the nights she had lain awake praying that she could wake up in her bed at Hogwarts and at last she was home.

But she was wracked also by a very different emotion. As she sat amongst her house, her eyes trawled back and forth along the staff table, searching for one particular woman. And as she searched, Hermione felt her stomach churn with uncertainty. _What will she look like?_

Her mentor had replied, thanking her for her concern and assuring her that she would be just fine once she had adjusted to the change. That had given her some comfort, but now she thought of it – _how will the rest of the school react? _

Suddenly it occurred to Hermione that she was in fact nervous on her mentor's behalf. Of course she knew that this was entirely futile, but her experiences over the last year had taught her that logic and emotions rarely make an amicable partnership.

Before her thoughts could progress any further, the hall was silenced by the progress of a young woman to the front of her platform.

Her hair had been tied back severely, yet it was not enough to quell her striking beauty. Her skin of her face was white and smooth, as was the long neck, partially exposed by the collar of her robes. The robes themselves clung in all the right places to a slight yet curvaceous frame, but could not have been called indecent and her eyes were bright and seemed to glance around the room with enthusiasm. The did not betray her nerves.

'Students and staff. May I welcome you to a new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' she began, pausing while a murmur of confusion rumbled through the great hall.

'I am sorry to say' she continued, 'that you have not acquired a new and exciting Headteacher.'

With that she disappeared, prompting a collective gasp as she was replaced on the platform by a small tabby cat.

Transforming back into her human form, she began again,

'I shall not bore you with the details of my situation, but rest assured that I would not have opted for this...refurbishment if it had not been essential for my ability to continue in the role of Headmistress. So I hope you will forgive me my rather...fresh appearance and continue as usual with your studies. To those of you new to the school – it is probably for the best that you should learn straight away to expect the unexpected if you wish to survive long in this place. Now, by all means, eat!'

With that Minerva took her place at the head table and engaged the professors seated on either side of her in conversation, determinedly ignoring the curious chatter that had begun to ring out throughout the hall.

Turning to talk to Ginny, Hermione couldn't help but swell with pride at Minerva's skilful handling of the situation. She made a mental note to tell the woman when they were next alone together, remembering also the promise she had made to Molly to let her know how Minervawas coping. She'd send a note before bed, she decided.

* * *

Hermione had just climbed into bed, when she remembered the note.

Muttering, 'Shit.' getting up again and wrapping her dressing gown around herself, before padding to the door of the private room she was to occupy for the year.

Enjoying the feeling of the cool stone floor on the bottom of her feet, she walked slowly in the direction of the owlery, pausing once or twice to admire a moonlit view over the Scottish landscape she had missed.

Climbing the steps to the circular tower room which housed the school birds, Hermione became aware of someone else nearby, her ears catching the occasional sniff, as if someone was trying not to cry.

With care, she made her way up the last few stairs, keen to help whoever she found at the top.

'Hello?' she called softly 'who's there?'

'Hermione?' asked a voice, as Minerva stepped out of the shadows to meet her. 'What are you doing out so late?'

'I had gone to bed, but I remembered I promised to send a note to Molly. I thought I heard someone crying, but I must have been mistaken though.' replied Hermione, striking just the right balance between confidence and respect.

She didn't think for a minute that she had been mistaken, but wanted to let the older woman know she had heard her, without putting any pressure on her to explain herself.

Minerva declined to comment either way, saying instead, 'Well. I'm glad you're here...' But she faltered, pressing a fist to her mouth as she tried desperately to stop the tears.

Stepping forward, Hermione wrapped her arms around the other woman, holding her tight as she began to cry.

'It'll be okay' she murmured, 'I wanted to tell you earlier. You were brilliant at the feast. Really brilliant.'

'Thank you.' responded Minerva after a while, her head still resting on the younger woman's shoulder. 'I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't let you see me like this, it's so-'

'Don't you dare say unprofessional. After all we've been through with the order, I won't have you go all remote Professor on me. I'm your friend, Minerva, and I'm here for you.' said the Brunette, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

'Of course you are. Forgive me, I'm just so...'

'Mixed up?' suggested Hermione.

'Yes.' replied Minerva quietly.

'Well it's no wonder, is it? As if it wasn't enough with the war, your life's just changed completely. Everything you thought you knew about your future has been turned on its head.'

'Exactly. Trust you to understand completely.' she said with a small laugh, disentangling herself from her younger friend. 'Come on, I'll walk you back to the common room.'

'And you'll be okay?' asked the Brunette with some suspicion.

'Yes, I'll be okay.' replied the older woman, looking her straight in the eye to reinforce her words.


	3. Chapter 3

The first week had passed and Hermione was already finding herself settling into the rhythm of things. Of course everything was different – the faces in the corridors and even the atmosphere. It was almost as if the castle itself was relieved to see live going on.

Even the days seemed to move slower. The consensus of the staff had been that those students returning to complete their final year should have the option either to join in with classes or to take control of their own studies under the guidance of a member of staff.

Although she knew she would miss the familiarity of the classrooms, Hermione had leapt at this opportunity, reasoning that this would give her time to pursue her interests to the fullest degree.

Students were also allowed to request a supervisor and, having discussed it first with Minerva, Hermione had made a surprising choice. She had chosen to work under professor Flitwick.

While the transfiguration professor had seemed like the obvious counterpart to her academic aptitude, Hermione was anxious that nothing should stop the older woman from confiding in her.

While she knew that Minerva had friends amongst the staff, the pair had grown close throughout the course of the war and she was keen that they should remain friends without their respective roles becoming an issue.

She wanted to be there for her mentor during this difficult transition and knew how touchy she could be about maintaining her professional distance.

What she had not expected was Minerva's easy acceptance of this. She had chosen to be entirely honest about her intentions and had been surprised by the agreement which she had received from the raven-haired woman.

If anything, her reaction confirmed to Hermione how, in spite of an incredibly convincing façade, Minerva really was in need of support.

So, with Professor Flitwick as her guide, Hermione had begun to devour her studies with the hunger of the lioness that she had become, punctuated by regular cups of tea with Minerva and equally frequent late-night conversations with Ginny.

A year or two ago she might have felt lonely, with only a sparse handful of friends in the castle, but these days her gentle evenings were a comfort to her.

* * *

Returning to the Gryffindor tower after a particularly fulfilling library trip, Hermione was confronted with a hugful of enthusiastic Redhead.

'Oh God! Hello Gin. What's up with you?' She said, attempting to regain her balance.

'Guess what!' ordered Ginny with a wicked glint in her eye.

'I don't know...' replied Hermione, her voice laced with suspicion.

'We're going to a party!'

'Are we now?' said the Brunette with amusement, 'And whose party are we going to?'

'Well technically it's Harry's party, but it might as well be Kingsley's. Apparently he thought it'd be a great idea to keep everyone's spirits up – he'd invited half of the office before Harry sent me the owl.'

'Bloody hell. How many people do you think will turn up?'

'No idea, but it's going to be a big one. Jeez – you sounded just like my brother then.' said Ginny with a look of mock-disgust.

Hermione returned the look, before joining in the laughter which had sprung from the younger girl's lips.

'What are you doing about him by the way?' asked Ginny, slumping onto a nearby sofa.

'What do you mean?' countered Hermione, following suit.

'Well, in case you'd forgotten, you kissed him rather publicly. Harry and I were waiting for it to become official and, well, we're still waiting...'

'Ah.' said Hermione. Of course she knew that she'd have to answer for her actions at some point, but she had rather hoped she would have had more time to compose a convincing story first.

'God Hermione. He's been mooning round the house for weeks. At least let him know where he stands.'

'Yeah, you're right.' replied the older girl, as a twinge of guilt resonated around her stomach.

'For the record – where does he stand?' asked Ginny. She wasn't angry, but Hermione could tell that she wouldn't be escaping any time soon.

'Oh Gin. I just...I don't want to lose him as a friend-'

'But...?' interjected Ginny with a slight grimace.

'I can't be with him. I can say for sure that it wouldn't work and, to use a cliché, it's not him – it is me.'

'Why? What's wrong?' asked Ginny.

'Nothing's wrong exactly...God this is hard!'

'What's hard? 'Mione – you know you can tell me anything, right?'

'Yeah, of course I do.' she said quietly.

'What is it then?' asked the Red-head gently.

Looking her friend straight in the eye, Hermione took a deep breath and said, 'I'm gay Gin.'

The younger girl stared at her for a few seconds.

'Erm Ginny...not making this any easier!'

'Oh shit. Sorry 'Mione, you just took me by surprise a bit there.' said Ginny with an apologetic look.

'That's okay – as long as you still want to be my friend.' said Hermione with only a hint of anxiety.

'Of course I do!' said Ginny, shocked by the possibility of anything else. Continuing after a few seconds, she said 'And I can see why you weren't exactly falling over yourself to spell it out to my brother. But I don't understand why you kissed him in the first place.'

'I'm not sure I do either Gin. I guess I was just so relieved to be safe at last and I do love him, honestly I do. I just couldn't love him like that.' said the Brunette, relieved to be able to explain aloud something she'd tried to justify a thousand times in her head.

'Hmm. No, I can understand that. You need to tell him at some point though. Otherwise he'll think he must have done something to make you hate him'.

'Yeah, you're right – maybe I can catch him at this party.' mused the older girl.

'Good plan bat WO-man' said Ginny, while Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust at the phrase. 'Anyway...'

'Anyway what?' said Hermione with some trepidation.

'About you being a muff-diver.'

'GINNY!' said the Brunette, looking around in alarm to check that the room was still empty.

'Seriously' said Ginny with a smug grin 'I need to know everything. When did you realise, or should I say – who made you realise? And have you got some smoking babe on the go?'

Hermione groaned, 'Well, I've known for a long time, I guess, but I didn't put a name to it until recently. And no, I do not have any 'smoking babes' on the go.'

'Well have you had any on the go?' demanded the younger girl.

'Not exactly...'

'Ooooooh!'

'Calm down dear! I was kind of seeing a girl this summer, while I was staying in London, but it fizzled out in the end.'

'Oh my God! I can't believe you didn't tell me.' said Ginny, administering a sharp jab to Hermione's ribs.

'Ouch! Well, it's not all that easy.' said Hermione guiltily 'And anyway I wasn't entirely proud of my conduct.'

'Why – what did you do?' asked Ginny, her eyes lit up with excitement.

'Well, when I say 'seeing'...it's true that I saw a lot of her...physically.'

'Hermione Jean Granger – you little ho bag!' said Ginny glee 'Oh man! Can I tell Harry?'

'NO!' shouted Hermione. 'At least not until I've spoken to Ron.'

'Fair enough.' conceded Ginny. 'Well – what an insightful evening!' said the younger girl, stilling shining with delight at the scandal of her friend's revelation.

'I suppose we ought to call it a night. Books to read in the morning and all...'

'Ha – sounds like you!' smirked the Red-head. 'You're probably right though. I'll see in the morning then.'

After a quick hug, the pair separated and headed to their respective dormitories.


	4. Chapter 4

Another week had come around since Hermione's revelation to Ginny, with a week to go until the big party at Harry's new, rather capacious, residence.

After the initial sense of euphoria following Ginny's simple acceptance, Hermione had to admit that a little niggling anxiety had begun to creep up on her once again; an anxiety stemming from a source which was only too easy to identify.

Hermione was dreading the party, or rather what she knew had to be done at the party. She had absolutely no desire to string Ron along and knew, anyway, that it would come back to bite her in the arse if she did. His reaction, however, was not a certain thing.

While she knew he was a decent man, he had a wicked streak of jealousy and had been known to stage and sustain major sulks about relatively insignificant things.

He also hadn't taken it all that well when he had found out about his elder brother Charlie's sexuality, though admittedly the situation in which he had become aware of it was hardly ideal.

Hermione had to smile as she realised with relief that she, at least, did not have a partner for him to chase out of the house and no garden tools with which he could do it.

Nevertheless, she could not deny that she was growing more nervous by the day. It was this twisting sensation in her stomach that had prompted her to skip breakfast that morning and walk down to the lake.

As she rounded the corner and stepped onto the black stony beach, Hermione caught sight of a figure perched on a rock at the other end of the beach. A few steps confirmed her suspicion that this figure was Minerva.

The older woman did not appear to notice her, but continued to gaze out across the water.

Hermione was unsure as to whether her presence would be welcome, but reasoned that it would be ridiculous to try and go back without being seen. With this in mind, she decided to give some sort of warning that she was there.

'Hello.' she called, trying not to sound too curious.

'Hermione!' replied Minerva, jolting out of the daydream in which she had been caught to look at the other woman.

'Do you come here often?' joked Hermione.

'More often than sometimes.' quipped the Headmistress, though her heart did not seem to be in it.

'How are you?' tried Hermione, wary not to set off the older woman's easily-triggered defences.

Minerva exhaled heavily, but gave Hermione a tired smile.

'Honestly, not wonderful, but I'll be okay. I just...' she trailed off, clearly debating whether to unpack her troubles in front of her younger friend.

'Minerva?'

'I just got back from the post-office. I had to break it off with someone I've been seeing. It wasn't only this.' she said, gesturing to her young body, 'It wasn't going to work out long-term anyway. I just wish I didn't have to be such a...twat about it.' she finished.

Biting back her amusement at hearing that particular word cross her former-mentor's lips, Hermione pressed her gently,

'What do you mean?' she said.

'Sorry-' said Minerva, shaking her head as if punishing herself for missing a key detail, 'She's a muggle and I hadn't broached the 'witch' subject. It would have been foolish to offer information like that at this stage, so I had finish it from a distance. Well, I could hardly turn up like this to explain myself, could I?' she laughed glumly.

Hermione, who had been staring blankly for a few sentences, forced her head right, then left and back again it what she hoped was a natural gesture.

'Hermione?' said Minerva, worried by her companion's strange behaviour.

Then it dawned on her.

In her state of stress she had forgotten to omit a certain pronoun.

She had unwittingly come out to her former student.

'You...' Said Hermione with some difficulty, as if struggling to grasp at the word.

Making a split-second decision, Minerva responded confidently.

'Yes, Hermione. I am.' she said.

Ordinarily she would have been mortified to have let the details of her personal life slip to a student, whether or not she taught them personally. But this was not an ordinary situation.

Hermione had proved her maturity time and time again and had more than earned the right to call the older woman a friend.

Minerva was also aware of Hermione's own struggle with this particular issue.

Although the younger woman had never mentioned it, her own intuition gave the game away. She had spent the last sixty years carefully assessing the body language of the women around her, whether it was to find a lover or to look out for a friend.

After all this time, she was hardly ever wrong.

That said, there was always an element of risk and she was sickeningly aware of the potential for disaster if she was wrong now.

So she saved her words and waited.

Hermione was stunned. She didn't know what to say. She knew, however, that if fate had ever given her a chance, she had been given one now.

'Minerva?' she said, looking at a particularly round pebble to the left of her feet.

'Yes.' answered the older woman calmly.

'I am too.' she rushed out, continuing to stare at the pebble and wondering why her eyes were suddenly flooding with tears.

'Hermione?'

Hermione didn't dare respond, embarrassed by her unexpected rush of emotion.

'Hermione, please look at me.' asked Minerva softly.

Reluctantly, Hermione raised her eyes to look the professor in the face. She was painfully aware of the tears that had begun to run down her face and tried, frantically, to wipe at them with her sleeve.

Slowly, Minerva took hold of her arms and guided them around her own neck, pulling the girl into a tight hug.

'You have nothing to be ashamed of.' she whispered. 'I know how scary that is and I am so proud of you.'

They stayed like this for a minute or so and through her tears, Hermione smiled, breathing deeply to capture the comfort of the embrace.

'Also, I should probably tell you that I've been waiting for you to tell me for some months now.' smirked Minerva.

'What?' said Hermione, releasing Minerva and looking up indignantly.

Minerva laughed openly now.

'Oh come on, Hermione. I've been gay for a very long time.'

'Fair enough.' conceded the younger woman.

'And it is bloody obvious.' said Minerva, flashing an unexpectedly dazzling smile.

Hermione laughed in spite of herself, though she also took the opportunity to shove the other woman in mock irritation. This knocked them both off balance, landing Hermione in Minerva's arms once again.

This time it was Hermione who confirmed the embrace, laying her head against the headmistress's chest as she did so. Minerva responded by wrapping her arms around Hermione, receiving as much comfort as she gave.

Though neither of them sought to acknowledge it, both women were aware of a subtle shift in the dynamic between them; a sudden closeness that had been inaccessible to them while they related to one another as 'straight' women.


	5. Chapter 5

'Have you let anyone else know yet?' asked Minerva thoughtfully.

'Only Ginny.', replied Hermione, 'But I need to tell Ronald sooner rather than later. I was going to try and catch him alone at Harry's party.'

'Ah yes, the party.' said Minerva in a somewhat unenthusiastic tone.

'Will you go?' asked Hermione, pulling away to look at the other woman.

'I can't see a way round it', answered the headmistress. 'I don't relish the thought, particularly in my current state, but I imagine a fair number of the older students will want to attend and the only way I can allow them to do so is to attend myself. I can hardly deny them the opportunity, given their involvement in the war effort. But I feel I must draw the line at fifth years. Sixth and seventh years only, and then with parental permission.'

'Very sensible, Professor McGonagall.' said Hermione in a mock deferential voice. 'But surely it wont be as torturous as all that!'

'Hmm. A few hundred gawking acquaintances, each of whom will feel entitled to an explanation of my new 'look'. I can hardly wait...'

'Ah yes, of course', acknowledged Hermione, feeling a little thoughtless. 'I can't say I'm looking forward to it overly much myself, but I can't let Harry down, and Ginny would never speak to me again if I didn't go.'

'Then we must suffer it together, I suppose. However, right now we ought to get back to the castle. I have a mountain of marking to do already and I suspect you'd like to check that nothing unseemly has happened to the library since last you were there.'

And with that the pair began to wend their way back to the castle.

* * *

'So...How does it feel to be young again?' demanded the flying instructor, lounging on Minerva's sofa and fixing her with a curious gaze.

Minerva sighed.

'Actually, physically I feel fantastic. If anything I have a little too much energy for once.'

'Libido through the roof, I expect?' said Hooch with a smirk.

'Oh Merlin.' replied the dark haired witch, blushing slightly, 'It's madness. I can't remember feeling like this when I _was_ twenty!'

'That's because you got laid more when you _were_ twenty.' commented Rolanda dryly, dodging to avoid a piece of shortbread as it whistled past her left ear.

'I'm serious, M. What's your lady situation looking like?' persisted the hawk-like professor

'A little sparse at present,' conceded Minerva, 'but only because of this blasted regeneration business. I was getting on fine with Ann before all this happened. I mean, I admit that we were unlikely to remain together in the end, but it was pleasant enough. She was a kind woman.'

'You need a lithe young thing.' suggested Ro with a glint in her eye.

'And where might one find one of those?' enquired the headmistress, knowing full well that it was easier to play along than to fight her corner. And anyway, Rolanda Hooch was one of her closest friends, albeit a little flighty.

'Well, you can start at Potter's party. And fear not, I'll be on hand to act as your wing-woman so to speak.'

Minerva groaned.

* * *

Molly Weasley was in the kitchen putting the final touches on the meal with which she intended to feed her men once they tumbled through the door from their respective days at work.

Hearing the door go behind her, Molly turned to see her youngest son walk into the room.

'Oh hello darling. How was work? I wasn't expecting you for another quarter of an hour.'

'Hi mum. Yeah, not to bad – Kingsley said we could knock off early.' replied Ron, slumping into a chair and beginning to untie one of his boots.

'I expect he's got a lot on his plate at the moment, what with the party.' commented the housewife.

'It's Harry's party!' said Ron with loyal indignation as he untied the other boot.

'Yes dear, of course. What are you going to wear, love?'

'I don't know, some clothes...' replied Ron absent mindedly.

Molly turned around to look properly at her son. 'What's wrong, love? You've been out of sorts all week.'

'Nothing's wrong, mum.' he replied grumpily.

Moving to put a hand on his shoulder, Molly said gently. 'What is it darling, a mother knows when something isn't right.'

Ron sighed. 'It's Hermione. I thought...I thought there might be something between us, but now she wont talk to me. Every time I see her she tries to avoid my eye. I don't know what I've done.'

'Oh darling. A woman's heart is full of vagueries! Trust me on that. But they usually realise what it is that they want sooner or later. Try and catch her alone at the party. Tell her how you feel.'

'I spose so.' muttered Ron, glumly.

Just then the door opened again and Arthur Weasley came into the room, swiftly followed by George.

'Right boys! Dinner on the table in five minutes!' announced Molly.


End file.
